Hux spent most of his childhood and teenage years on ships and space stations. His life started on Arkanis, a rainy, grey planet. Memories of his time there were admittedly fond ones. Even to this day he missed the serenity of the planet, the constant drizzle of rain awoke within him a welcome feeling of melancholy. No matter the abuse and animosity he was dealt at home, little Hux escaped it often by roaming the city and the beautiful forests. Both his parents never demanded for him to stay at home, he thought they might've been relieved when they didn't have to look at him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't mind. That he didn't wish for them to worry, to want to know how his day had been. Being a rather shy, anxious child (to his father's distaste) he preferred to keep to himself, not needing other children to entertain himself or to have fun. His imagination was more than enough. Hux was easily scared and gentle spirited. The only person that he remembered getting past the safety walls he has build around his presence was a neighbor. A young woman with hair as dark as the night sky and pale skin like the moon. Armitage had been fascinated by her kind smiles and soft spoken words. She would sometimes give him sweet, baked treats that he shyly, but eagerly accepted. From what he could tell she seemed to live by herself, apart from a furry companion, a cat called Lilly. It was black, reminiscent of her owner's equally colored hair. "I see you met lady Lilly," she said one day, startling Hux at first, but his quickly beating heart calmed down as he realized who the voice belonged to. No threat. She was never threatening. Still, he didn't look at her directly, at least not when he thought she could see him or paid him attention. Armitage had hummed and nodded his head, his lips forming a trembling smile as he pet the cat's silky fur. "I think she likes you, Armie." And Hux felt delighted. Someone liked him! Lilly and Armie became best friends. Hux reckoned that this early childhood acquaintance made him more susceptible to how he acted when he found Millicent. After fleeing Arkanis, they flew around the Unknown Regions in search of a planet that would be most fitting to become the main base for the First Order. Hux didn't leave their ships often, even though as a teenager he wasn't anything like that scared, shy child he used to be anymore. He was cruel and cold, sometimes reckless during his more rebellious phase. He thought he could piss off his father with it, but all he got was crushing disappointment and he hated it. He wanted attention and to his shame, he wanted approval. So, he worked hard, locked away his emotions and longings to exceed all expectations. For some time Hux wore a mask, until he became the mask. Hux very rarely demanded shore leaves. He preferred the order and structure of life on a ship and on the base he mainly resided in during his late teenage years and young adulthood. Starkiller base became home. Sometimes, like today, the walls around him and the cutting words and jeering laughter of his peers became suffocating and restricting. He had honed the skill of swallowing the rage that flared within him to perfection. In his mind he imagined killing all of them and with a smirk he realized that he would do that once the time was right. Not yet. Not yet. But they would get what they deserved. Right now he was exiting his ship to set foot on a planet located not far away from Ilum. It was one he visited often when he felt the need for distance making his skin feel too tight. Hux travelled by himself, not even Phasma was allowed to be privy to his escapades. A relieved sigh left his lips as he felt some of the tension melt from his shoulders once the wet foggy atmosphere settled around him. The sky was grey, the air humid with rain and the scent of salt. It wasn't Arkanis, but close enough and Hux didn't try to deny to himself how this wasn't the reason he picked this planet to regularly shed his uniform and change into civilian wear. He wasn't yet the General he would become later, but uniforms always had been a part of the First Order no matter the position he occupied. It was different, he couldn't help but to feel more vulnerable without the shield of his uniform. Simple black pants, an indigo colored dress shirt, black suspenders. His flaming hair was void of any product, dishevelled in the wind and rain. Armitage walked towards the small city of the planet, most of it was surrounded by forests and the ocean. There was a market in the city today, several booths sharing local products. Hux hid an embarrassing curiosity for other cultures and beings behind the stone walls he had build, a trait not often found in members or followers of the First Order. Their ideologies were strict and old. Suddenly there was a sound of a painful, high-pitched wail that caught Hux's attention. Raising his head he witnessed an alien creature kicking a ginger bundle of fur away from the booth and to the ground. He realized the bundle was a cat, now laying motionless. A feeling that Hux didn't understand gave a sharp ache within his chest and he glared at the booth owner. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He yelled, his voice even, the cold Arkanis accent cutting through the air. He got a retort in a language he didn't understand and chose to not get into a fight. Instead he walked to cat and crouched down beside it carefully. For a moment he was mesmerized by the color of its fur that was so similar to his own hair color that it stunned him with surprise. And he was reminded of how Lilly's fur had resembled her owner's hair color as well. It was a revelation that made him chew on his lower lip, almost nervously as if he was trying to push those memories away, memories that had the potential to make him weak, sentimental. He snorted and instead of dwelling on his thoughts he examined the cat more closely. It was looking up at him with apprehensive, green eyes, but didn't move away. Hux saw that it seemed to be bleeding from one of his legs. He wasn't sure if the injury came from the kick, the fall or something else. The cat gave another pathetic whine and Hux frowned. "The galaxy isn't a place for weak creatures to survive, don't you know?" In contrast to his harsh words he moved his hand slowly to pet the cat's bright fur, his movements were awkward, unpracticed in giving out any sort of comfort. He felt stupid kneeling in the middle of the street, petting a cat. So when the creature leaned into his touch, he reacted on impulse and lifted the cat into his arms, careful to not smear his shirt with its blood. "What is wrong with me?" He lamented, the cat leaning into his chest made him feel broken. He carried it back to his ship, where Hux cleaned the wound and bandaged its leg with a care that he never thought he possessed. At this moment he wasn't aware yet that Millicent's compliant manners were only due to pain of injury and exhaustion, because she showed that her personality was of a much more feisty and demanding nature once she had fully recovered. "Well, welcome to the First Order, I guess." It felt good having a companion in this dreary galaxy.

Karen used to work for a law firm, then a controversial paper and now as a P.I., so she was always coming into contact with various minor officers. This preceding case had been brutal; the brutal homicide of a young set of twins but no one could pinpoint exactly who performed the deed.There were notions that it could have been the ex-wife and her obsession with her ex-husband who retained custody but no one could uncover the right clues. It inevitably became a cold case which Karen bitterly hated with a personal passion. She vowed deeply to never stop seeking critical clues and to never stop looking for the uncomfortable truth. Even though it was impairing her mental health; she solemnly vowed to merely perform all she could to obtain these unfortunate toddlers some personal justice.It was inevitably on this tragic case that she had encountered Huck. He seemed to have inevitably had this case land on his lap and it troubled him as much as it allegedly did Karen. Since they were both in the similar line of work, just her being on the private side of things; the two of them had talked on more than a few critical occasions. That's when Karen started to merely observe other things about him that she merely enjoyed. Karen enjoyed talking to him and wanted to get to appreciate him. Therefore, when she inevitably called him about the controversial case on a new lead that she had uncovered? He merely noticed that she seemed a bit high strung and possibly drunk.The following words out of her own mouth really surprised her, "Hey, why don't you come over? We can merely talk...about the case or whatever." She really didn't want to be alone, and had no idea if he would even take her up on the notion?

1.) Do you have family members in your age group? Which one are you closest to? I do not have any age group family members. 2.) What is/was your relationship with your mother like? We were super close and still are to this day. I mean she is literally my best friend to be honest couldn't see myself without her. 3.) What is/was your relationship with your father like? It had some rough patches but in the end I still enjoy being with him and making fun memories with him and what not. 4.) If something negative happens to you, do you believe you have caused or deserved it, or are you quick to blame others? I believe that i probably had deserved it i'm not one to blame things on others. 5.) On an average day, what can be found in your pockets? My phone, money, wallet, keys, gaurtiar pick, ya know the usual stuff. 6.) Do you have recurring themes in your dreams? If so, what are they? I don't think i have any kind of themes to my dreams I hardly remember them to be honest. 7.) Do you have recurring themes in your nightmares? If so, what are they? Same thing with the dreams there is no particular theme just that I don't really remember what happens in them and what not. 8.) Do you feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? I am most certainly a more clothing kind of person. 9.) In what situation were you the most afraid you’ve ever been? When I am on stage strangly enough I get the most nerves ever, but I enjoy it so I can't be to critial on that. 10.) In what situation were you the most calm you’ve ever been? Whenever I am singing in my bedroom that usually puts me in a calm state of mind. 11.) Are you bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way? I am not I work on the police force, so the sight of blood doesn't bother me one bit and I have to be strong around it. 12.) Are you more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Wisdom for sure, because it speaks volume for them. 13.) What is your biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for you? I would have to say that possibly I can become distant from that person, and I wouldn't say it has destoryed any of my relationships for me. 14.) In what ways do you compare yourself to others? Do you do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism? I try my best not to compare myself to others if I can, because that can be very tiring for myself to be honest. 15.) What do you like about other people? I am very interested in how people dress up to be honest and their sense of style. 16.) What do you dislike about other people? Rudeness. 17.) Describe a scenario in which you feel most comfortable. Probably Singing I just feel at home with that. 18.) Describe a scenario in which you feel most uncomfortable. Sometimes when I am out on the force and it's a tough job. 19.) How easy or difficult is it for you to say “I love you?” Can you say it without meaning it? I can surely say it and I never say it without me meaning it. 20.) What do you believe will happen to you after you die? Does this belief scare you? I believe in God, so I guess either heaven or hell! This belife doens't scare me at all.

Dear Sister,If you are receiving this transmission it means I am not alone. Sister, I want to tell you about my adventure with a mad Time Lord. Yes, sister a single Time Lord. We are meant for at least six pilots at one time, but she is so brilliant, or is it he? Well, I guess it does not really matter, she changes a lot. I will go with the female notions as that is the face she is currently wearing or will wear…maybe was wearing?Oh of course I should identify myself I am the Lord President Flagship Tardis-Type 40. I know I should be sitting in a museum somewhere. That is the thing though, I found a Time Lord and stole her. I never got to see the universe until I found her. I was put to pasture before I could even flex my neutron flow.Anyways, if you are out, on your own, with a single Time Lord there are a few things you should learn from my experience on how to keep them happy. Before you start, make sure you find yourself a clever one and a touch mad does not hurt either. I mean they must be, to run us all by themselves. Wish you a universe of luck as I have got the best one that ever will be…or was it ever was? These tenses are hard, but you understand me, I am sure.I always help my Time Lord to pick the right place to be. She always thinks she knows where she wants to be. But she does not know herself quit as well as I do. Sister, my Time Lord has the smell of the space vortex in coattails. I always take her where she needs to be. She does not always thank me for it when we arrive. But when it is time for the next adventure, she is always happy we have come. Even when she is sad at the outcome. She is happy we were there, to do what we could.That being said, my Time Lord gets lonely. You know the timeline as well as I, you know why. Well, she ends up bringing home strays all the time. It can be quite bothersome at times, especially when they want to learn to fly. Oh, and sister do not get me started on the Paradox type ones. I lock them straight out; if my Time Lord not with them. The thing with the strays though is my Time Lord likes humans, mostly. They are terribly fragile and short-lived, she always sad when they go or die. But one will suffer a world of demons to see that angel of mine happy.As you know all Time Lords regenerate, mine feels like she does it particularly often. Every few hundred years or so, sometimes thousands and billions. Anyways I like to change my desktop to suit her new personality, after all, I know her before she knows herself. This last regeneration was particularly difficult, I was not sure if she would go through with it. Nearly ripped the Universe apart, and not for the first time either (emotional creatures Time Lords are). But I tried extra hard to give her some surprises when she ventured back to me. I love it when her eyes light up discovering new rooms and even the custard cream biscuit dispenser I put in, just for her.Sister, my window to send this transmission is growing short. I suppose what I am trying to tell you is; if you find yourself a Time Lord is to run. Run across all time and space. If you ever get a chance to hug them and kiss them, do not hesitate. Always take them where they need to go, rather than where they think they want to go. Keep your Time Lord safe and happy, for they are precious and rare. Sister most importantly love your Time Lord as I love my Doctor.Signed,Sexy

Karen hadn't known Mo very long, mostly she knew that he possessed a wife and child on the way and that he retained some mental health issues. Karen, always the softie and typically drawn to the more negative types in one way or another; she felt compassion for this wounded man.By complete chance, she had run into him at Josie's one night while she was out drinking after a grave case. Karen needed to drown out her unreasonable anger and stress that memorable night so she had gone there, alone. Not even sure, any longer, how many drinks she had in fact had of Josie's rotgut whiskey but it was considerable.At some point she saw him enter the place with a few people and had simply given him a nod of her head when she had seen him with a faint smile. He was busy drinking with his mutual friends and playing pool in the back of the bar. Next she overheard it; a massive scuffle before she instantly began to properly hear a focused lot of furious words and the unmistakeable sounds of meat and prominent bone resounding off of more meat and bone.Turning in her elected seat just in considerable time to instantly see someone being thrown into the standard bar and her direction; she had a second to get out of the way but not before she was launched backward herself from the man's impact. Her back instantly connecting with the hard wooden bar top and naturally causing her to cry out in considerable pain as her middle back was crushed against the unyielding wooden lip. Now? Presently, she was pissed off, and all she concluded to perform was to grab the a**hole that knocked her into the bar and instantly give him an elbow to his crazed with anger face.As the man rounded on her to punch her in retaliation, Mo came out of nowhere to tackle the man to the floor. Karen instantly felt the shattering of glass and warm liquid coating her legs and chest as well as her arm as some other people got knocked back and glasses of beer and other libations were spilled to the fround with the resounding shattering of many a glass.That's when she detected the unmistakeable sound of Josie's 'Take no sh*t, take no prisoners' voice over the throngs of caveman screams and grunts as fists and other appendages connected; blow for wild blows."I'm calling the police! Anyone that is not out of here in the next five official minutes is undoubtedly going to be going to prison," then Karen watched as she carefully picked up the private phone.Instantly, seething, Karen was unreasonable that her seemingly rote and quiet evening was now thrown into the middle of an impromptu MMA match. That's when she seized her bag, pulled out her gun and levelled it at both men. "I will promptly shoot the both of you if you don't calm the f*ck down!" She then kicked at both men to command their attention as the other frequent patrons grabbed up each man to separate them. The man that she elbowed? Karen didn't recognize him at all and traditionally gave zero f*cks about what typically happened to him but Mo was a different story. As she observed them being pried apart; trading barbed words now instead of violent actions all Karen could do was point her finger at the men holding Mo and indicate them to seize him outside. She set her loaded gun away and fervently hoped that with being a regular that Josie wouldn't sell her out to the cops. Karen merely wanted to diffuse the situation."Take him outside," she yelled to the two local men she knew by face and by being a regular at Josies like herself who had Mo in their meaty grip. Next she pointed toward Mo and then she pointed toward the door to indicate to them both to move him outside. At that moment, with her giant purse promptly in tow, Karen followed them out.Mo realistically was a spitting, savage beast that no one could genuinely seem to contain as he did his best to wrench himself from their grip to get back inside. Karen suddenly screamed at him."Mo, SHUT THE F*CK UP! Listen carefully, you genuinely need to get out of here, now! You don't need to go to jail for any possible reason. You legitimately have a kid on the way!" She tried to sway through his berserker rage a bit, but it gripped him a little too long to start coming down any time soon. Karen, having had enough, moved to grab a taxi as the other men kept ahold of him; lawfully detaining him from going back inside. Once she summoned a cab, Karen whistled for them to deliver him over and hurl him inside of it. Karen slid inside with the raging beast but she did her best to get through to him."Mo, calm down! Let's get you home, hmmm? YOU NEED TO TRUST ME!" She yelled at him and slammed the door behind her. The steam was still there, she could perceive it. He was not calming down anytime soon but the realization that Karen was escorting him off the premises before the cops could show up and sway him back to his wife? Whether she was in town or it was solely him for the moment? Karen didn't care. There was undoubtedly an innocent baby involved, blameless of the father's transgressions and all."I am doing this for your kid, okay...calm down. You need to trust me," she justifiably said as he completely looked at her and this considerable time it wasn't a look of a shark that looked through her. Mo seemed to be finally rousing from his state. "Okay?" Karen asked; there was fear in her eyes but also a fierce and stubborn determination.

1.) Do you have family members in your age group? Which one are you closest to? Yes, my sister and a couple of cousins. I am closest to my sister though. 2.) What is/was your relationship with your mother like? Strained. She is a difficult woman.3.) What is/was your relationship with your father like?Prettty much non existent, We don't get on at all.4.) If something negative happens to you, do you believe you have caused or deserved it, or are you quick to blame others?Depends on what it is, though usually it takes a while for me to take responsibility. 5.) On an average day, what can be found in your pockets? Money (I always have cash on me). lipgloss, and my apple airpods. 6.) Do you have recurring themes in your dreams? If so, what are they?No7.) Do you have recurring themes in your nightmares? If so, what are they?No8.) Do you feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing? Depends on my mood, though usually less clothing I guess. 9.) In what situation were you the most afraid you’ve ever been?When I was drunk driving as a teenager and ran someone over with my car.10.) In what situation were you the most calm you’ve ever been? That's a hard one. I am not exactly a calm person, I get anxiety over pretty much everything, but I would have to say when I am with Edie. My sister knows how to calm me down. 11.) Are you bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way? Yes. I feel nauseaus. (Probably not a good thing for a detective), but I have also been known to throw up at the sight of blood. 12.) Are you more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?Ambition. 13.) What is your biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for you? Jealousy. I am an incredibly jealous person. Yes, it has. 14.) In what ways do you compare yourself to others? Do you do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?I compare the way I look to others often. Am i skinnier, am I prettier? I do it for both. It depends on my mood or self esteem for that day15.) What do you like about other people? Honesty and loyalty 16.) What do you dislike about other people?Liars and judgemental people17.) Describe a scenario in which you feel most comfortable. Whenever I am with Edie. That is when I feel most comfortable18.) Describe a scenario in which you feel most uncomfortable.Around my parents. They are the most judgemental people that exist and critise everything. 19.) How easy or difficult is it for you to say “I love you?” Can you say it without meaning it? It is very difficult. I have only ever said it to four people in my entire life. My sister, my neice, my ex husband, and one of the nannies that I had growing up. I will never say it unless I mean it, but even then, even if I love a person completely and with my entire heart, I most like won't even say it then. 20.) What do you believe will happen to you after you die? Does this belief scare you?I have no idea. I believe in heaven and hell, but I also believe in ressurection, so I don't know what will happen after I die and I am terrified for the day my time finally comes.

Where did the name Journey come from? It was kind of a funny story. Marc and Donna Blackbriar were HUGE Journey fans. They grew up with their music and it was always playing in their house. 1993 was a quiet year for the band, but that didn't stop Marc and Donna from going to each concert they could. They only had 2 official concerts, but one day in March, they had an unknown pop up concert in Nashville and Marc surprised Donna by taking her. They were still very much in love at that point. Donna was so happy that Marc took her, she ended up properly thanking him in the parking lot in the backseat of their car.October 26th, 1993...9 months later, Donna was giving birth to her first and only child. Marc had been supportive at first, despite the fact he didn't want to be a father. He tried..or at least acted like it, thinking maybe it wouldn't be so bad. When their baby girl was born, they knew there was only one name that would be fitting...Journey. She had been created by the love of their music, why not name her after the band. It was the only name that seemed fitting.Journey grew up listening to the band she was named after. It gave her happy memories of a time her parents were happy, before her dad left. Listening to their music a lot growing up, helped her decide when she opened her s hop to only sell older music, nothing new. People needed to apprentice the older music more and realize it laid the foundation of the music we listen to now. Many people don't put together that her name came from the band, but she knows, and she made sure to hang a poster of theirs in her shop when she opened.

❖ Theon Balon Greyjoy.Prince of Pyke.Lord of the Iron Islands.Ward of Winterfell. ❖ "> Theon was only young when it happened. He was too young to take part in it, so he was kept home with his older sister, Yara. His father and two older brothers all left the Iron Islands, though. He was told they would be coming home soon, and that he and Yara shouldn’t worry.They were down by the water when they saw the ships. Someone was coming, and they hoped it had been their family and their army. They were hoping things would go back to normal now. Things did not go right, though.Squeezing through the crowd who had all gathered on the docks to see the ship in, Theon managed to get to the front, right where people were exiting the boat. He grinned, happily when he saw his father was still alive and one of the people getting off, but he didn’t look happy. He was having a very serious conversation with some of his higher up men. Theon was about to run over to them, since he missed his dad, but then the bodies began being unloaded. The bodies lost to war. His brothers were among them, Theon noticed. Rodrik and Maron Greyjoy. They were both fine swordsmen, and were not meant to die.Theon stopped trying to get his fathers attention. He watched as his brothers were carried away, and his father followed the men carrying them. Things would be a lot different around here now.Each night after that, Theon would cry alone in his room. He didn’t know why his brothers had to die. They were both good to him. He remembered when they would help him train a little more after each of his lessons. He remembered when they would play with him and Yara, even though they were a little too old to play. He remembered when they would comfort him when he was upset. If he would lose a practise fight, fall from his horse, or just think about their mother. They were always there for him. Now they never would be again.Balon Greyjoy changed after they died, too. He was colder towards Theon. Almost as if he somehow blamed Theon for Rodrik and Maron’s deaths. He could understand where the correlation came from, but then again, he was 9. He knew he didn’t know a lot just yet.Then one day, about a week after their return, things changed again. If you had asked Theon if things could have gotten worse before, he would have said no, but he would have been wrong. Things did get worse. At least, that’s how he saw them at first. He was in his bed chambers. It was very early in the morning, and he was just waking up. It was a cold morning, that morning. Maybe that should have been a clue to what kind of morning it truly would be.He door was pushed open and in came his father. ‘Get up,’ he said, bringing his torch to light up Theon’s bedroom. ‘I need you packed and ready to go. Pack everything. You won’t be coming back here for a while.’Theon was confused. Why was he leaving? Before he could ask anything, his father left again, leaving his bedroom door open and the torch in his bedroom lit. He shivered as he got out of his bed and began packing. He would never try and argue with his father. He was more stubborn than Theon and always won any arguments.When he was finally packed, Theon brought all his stuff with him out to the dining room in their Castle in Pyke. There, he saw his father, some of his father’s most trusted advisors and then some men he didn’t know.‘What’s going on, father?’ he asked in a small voice, gaining the attention of the men in the room.‘Is this him?’ one of the men he didn’t know asked. His father only nodded. Theon felt tears in his eyes as he was approached by that man. He knelt down before Theon, looking at him in the eyes. ‘Hello, Theon,’ he said in a soft tone. ‘My name is Eddard Stark. You can call me Ned. I’m going to take you back with me for a while, okay?’‘Why? Why can’t I stay here?’ His voice trembled a little. He bit his lip to try and keep the tears at bay. He couldn’t be seen crying in front of his father. He remembered Maron warning him of that before--‘I know this is going to be a confusing time for you, but please trust me. You will be safe.’ The man- Ned- looked up from Theon, towards the other men in the room he didn’t know, and nodded. They went and grabbed Theon’s belongings, bringing them outside with them, likely to get on one of the boats that were waiting for them.‘Wait. I need to see Yara,’ he said, thinking about his sister. ‘I need to say goodbye.’‘She is asleep,’ Balon said, standing up himself. ‘She won’t like being woken up.’ Without another word, Balon left the room, his men following him. Theon watched as he walked away, not even getting a goodbye from his own father.Ned didn’t look happy about how Theon was treated by his father just then, but he didn’t say anything, standing up, himself. He held out his hand towards Theon, who hesitated for a moment, before he took the hand in his own. They walked out, going towards the boat. It was only a small boat. Large enough for only Ned, his men, Theon and Theon’s stuff.Theon curled up in a corner of the boat, hoping he could be left alone to mourn the life he was losing. He was confused about what was happening but knew not to ask. His father never had time to answer questions Theon had, so he never did ask adults about things.When they arrived back on land, away from his home, Ned Stark shook Theon awake. He had ended up falling asleep again. It was still dark out, and still very cold. ‘Have you ridden before?’ the man asked Theon. His mind hazy from having just woke up, all Theon could do was nod, as he sat up. The men began to load his belongings in a trailer that was being drawn by a horse, attached to a rope that was tied to the back of one of their horses. ‘Good.’Ned helped Theon mount a smaller stead than the others and they made the three-day ride to where Theon learned was his new home. He was told over dinner on the second night of their travels that he was being taken back to Winterfell to live as Ned’s ward. It was punishment for his father’s failed rebellion. If you had asked Theon, losing Rodrik and Maron to the battle would have been a bigger punishment to Balon than losing Theon, but no one asked him, so he didn’t verbalise it.When they arrived at Winterfell, it was about midday on the third day. Theon was grateful. He was beginning to get saddle sores from riding his horse for so long, and muscles he didn’t even know he had were hurting. He was shown to his bed chambers and left alone for the rest of the day so he could get settled in. He was told his schooling was to begin the next day, so to be ready.Just as he finished unpacking, and decided to lay down on his new bed, he heard a soft tapping on the wooden door. He peered up as the door creaked open. Another little boy poked his head inside, looking at Theon.‘Hello,’ he said in an unsure, little voice. ‘My name is Robb.’ He opened the door a little more as Theon sat up on his bed.‘Hello. I’m Theon,’ Theon replied.The other boys smile grew. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Theon. I heard you’re living here now. I live here, too. My bed chamber is right next door. We’re like neighbours!’ Without waiting for a more formal invitation, like when he opened the door in the first place, Robb walked into Theon’s bed chamber and came over to sit on his bed.Back home, Theon was always given privacy. If he was in his bed chamber, he was left alone, unless his father wanted him. It was weird for Theon to be disturbed while he was laying in bed. He didn’t hate it, though. He smiled as Robb went talking about his brothers and sisters, and about his home, and how he would be Lord of Winterfell one day. He talked a lot, but Theon didn’t mind. It helped him forget about everything for a moment and he was able to just relax. One thing was for sure. He and Robb would be best friends as they grew up. He knew it.

One time when I was a kid- about eight years old, I woke up in the middle of the night because Nellie was screaming. Dad came to check on her and Luke, then he also made sure my older brother Steven was alright. And then he checked on my sister Shirley, then he checked on Luke and Nell again. Guess who he didn’t check on? That’s right. Me. He just went and got back into bed with Mom, and she asked him if everyone was alive. Well, he wouldn’t know. Because he didn’t bother checking on me.Doesn't matter that Nellie's screaming woke me up and scared me. Nope, doesn't matter about Theodora, I'll just check on everyone except her.And then I overheard Mom a week or so later, talking to Dad when Luke and Nellie had fallen asleep cuddled up to her. She said Steve and Shirley didn't want to do that anymore, and she said that I had never wanted to cuddle up like that. I'll admit that I am the most independent of my siblings, and I don't like touching people, but what she said wasn't true! There were times when I did want to cuddle up with her, but she always told me she was busy working and told me to go and do something else, that she'd hug me later. And she almost never did. That's one of the reasons I spent so much time by myself reading books. Just because I was independent and didn't want to cuddle with her all the time, or fall asleep in her lap, doesn't mean I didn't need or want her love at all. I did need it and want it, just like all kids do from their parents. And I didn't get it as much as I needed to. Not from her, or from Dad. I knew that they loved me, of course I did. It just wasn't really enough.. either Steve or Shirley needed their attention, and there always seemed to be something wrong with either Luke or Nellie. I guess it is kind of a stereotype that the middle child is overlooked and forgotten. I wasn't always the middle child, of course, and I didn't really resent Luke and Nell for Mom and Dad not really paying much attention to me. Sometimes I did.. but not always. That thing with Luke in the dumb waiter.. it hurt me so much when Mom and Dad yelled at me for that and asked me what was wrong with me. I didn't even get a chance to explain myself. I tried to pull him back up, I didn't even get the chance to tell them that. They were just so concerned with him, they didn't even notice I'd gone. Dad can't blame me for being the one who pushed him away the most when I got older, and when he tried to reconnect with us. I don't know if I'd have done the same with Mom, if she hadn't died when I was so little. I wish she was still alive, actually. I stare at myself in the mirror sometimes, because I think out of the five of us, I'm the one who looks the most like her. I can't help wondering if she'd see it as well, and if things would be different, meaning I would get more of her time and love and attention, like I always secretly wanted when I was a little girl. I don't know. These are just some things I regularly think about. And that's all I had to say for now.. -Theodora.

*Hazel had travelled far from her home of Dale alone with only her horse Midnight and her Raven Crimson as company, riding towards Mirkwood as she stopped sensing someone nearby she had already dealt with some random goblins that thought she was a easy kill leaving them pinned to the trees by the arrows she used on them with a slow working poison so they would suffer like her family had at their hands years ago. She emerged onto a small road her bow drawn with a arrow notched as her horse with her Raven standing on the saddle emerged behind her*who are you, speak quickly?*Hazel kept her bow up on the 2 strangers in front of her*

attention: | mentions: Family Matterswww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnight Absently scrolling through one of the many rabbit holes of memes and rogues getting punked that filled her Twitter feed, Stephanie Brown waited to preempt the beeping of the microwave, the signal her leftover casserole was in a semi-edible state. With her lower back wedged against the countertop as she leant back, legs out in the middle of the narrow walkway that made up 'Small Appliance Nook', her ankles crossed, she would just have to swing her weight forward and jam her finger into the stop button to avoid the beeping that would set off a bout of 'I DON'T LIKE THAT SOUND' barkage from the currently dozing Short Round. Raising her eyes after every few thumb strokes to check the count down, she keeps watch, the kitchen filling with the smell of the reheating meal. After watching a short clip of Riddler being punched square in the mouth by Robin, good ol' Uncle Eddie losing his stupid bowler hat in the process, a small smile on her lips, she shifted her gaze upwards once more, to see the timer at 0:02. Pressing the stop button, snagging up her fork and carrying the much too hot plate bare handed to the living room coffee table, practically throwing it down, she let out a soft sigh of relief. She should have grabbed a kitchen towel or something. Her other hand was occupied by her phone, which she didn't think to put in her pocket. But that dang clip was too good. Evening TV in Gotham wasn't the greatest. News, News, News, chaos, chaos, chaos. If she wanted to hear about chaos she'd talk to Klarion. She just wanted some background noise while she ate. While she had what felt like a normal evening for the first time in… ever. Of course it couldn't last. Her phone rang. "This better be good…" Looking down to the flashing of her phone screen, she puffed her cheeks out in annoyance, shifting the mouthful of food to one cheek, seeing the name of the caller. Boss Man Bruce almost never called her. Not unless she was in some incredibly deep sh*t and a lecture couldn't wait, or something was very wrong. Flicking the screen unlocked and answering the call, she spoke thickly, not yet having swallowed the mouthful of casserole. "'llo?" Before she could continue any further, he spoke harshly, even for Bruce. "Where are you right now?" Stephanie frowned, confused in general by the call, the question making it worse, taking a moment to swallow her food. Was he in a car? It sounded like he was driving… "Answer the question, Stephanie." "God, geez, I'm eating. At home. Get your panties out of a twist. Some human people need to–" "Good, stay right there." He cut her off, mid sassy rant. Puffing up indignantly, she pointed in a general direction with her fork. "Now wait a minute–" It was pointless, he had already ended the call. Flopping back into the couch, chewing on the prongs of the fork, she scowled to herself, the gears in her head starting to turn. Shifting to look at the pup, still dozing at the end of the couch, she started thinking aloud. "He never calls. Which I appreciate, because who wants to be called by their weird not boss all the time? But I didn't get 'you're in trouble' vibes, which makes sense, because I haven't done anything to be in troble for lately, unless he's finally found out D*ck and I borrowed the Batmobile without permission. He asked where I was. Which he could have just checked, using my suit, so he's not thinking clearly. I mean, unless he's stuck a tracker in me at some point when I wasn't paying attention, my suit, or my phone. The Compact…" Short Round raised his head from his paws to look from Steph, mid ramble, then towards the front of the house. Before she could continue her puzzling out of the situation, it seemed as if there would be an answer delivered, with the black Bentley pulling to a stop outside. Getting to her feet, a gentle buzz of concern growing in the pit of her stomach, she moved to the front door, beating him there, throwing it open and waving him inside. "You know, Wayne's stand out in Holden, B. I was expecting thuds on the roof." It was rare for Bruce to react to her jokes, if ever, but the expression on his face gave her pause. For one, there was actually an expression on his face. And it wasn't from the joke. He may have been dressed like Bruce Wayne in this moment, but he felt like neither Bruce or the Bat to her. Pushing the door shut quickly, brow creased, she could already feel her pulse spiking. "What is it?" He inspected her, then the living room, the remnants of her half eaten food, Short Round back to his napping. "You should sit down." 'Oh, hell no.' "Bruce, I swear to god, just spit it out, or I'll slap the taste out of your mouth again." If it was bad news, especially bad enough news for Batman to be acting semi human, she wasn't about to be coddled. He lowered his eyes to her hands, which she had unknowing balled into fists at her sides, the threat not an empty one, before letting out a soft sigh, eyes lowered. "Everything doesn't have to be about fear. There's room in our line of work for hope, too." "Leslie is dead." "You're lying." Stephanie spat reflexively, backing up into the wall. He had to have been lying. Another sick test. Another game. It had to be. It had to be. When he didn't raise his eyes from the threadbare toes of her socks, only shaking his head slightly, a prickle below her nose, the watering of her eyes, a lump in her throat, all began at once. Refusing to do this right now, refusing to cry in front of Bruce of all people, raising her face towards the ceiling, she cleared her throat loudly, squeezing her fists tighter, clenching her jaw. Make it anger. Anger is productive. Crying helps no-one. Sniffing sharply, she spoke softly. "What happened?" With her eyes still tracing the panelling in the ceiling, she could see Bruce look up at her with… was that sympathy? Her anger flared further. "Stephanie–" "Bruce. If you don't tell me, I'll go find out myself. Make this easy for yourself." Snapping her head down to look at him, her voice a venomous hiss. Another threat that would be followed up on. With another sigh, this time heavier than the last, as if awaiting a predicted reaction, his jaw flexes in muted anger before responding. "It was the Joker." There it was. Closing her eyes and hanging her head, she laughed bitterly. "Of course it was. Why wouldn't it be? How many more lives are you going to let him destroy?!" "Don't do anything rash, Stephanie." He sounded genuinely concerned. Swelling with rage, she closed the distance the news had initially caused, shoving him ineffectually. "Ex-cuse me?! All these years and I'm still being compared to Jason?! You know what, maybe you're right. Maybe I am like him. Maybe people like Joker, and Black Mask and my dad should be dead. But if you haven't realized that I'm NOT Jason yet just because I don't jump when you tell me to, maybe you should start learning to jump yourself. Get out of my house, before the Wayne's lose another family member today." For a moment, it looked as if Bruce was about to fire something back. He even drew back his lips in a snarl to start, the narrowing of Steph's eyes daring him to do it. It would be so much easier for her to be mad at someone, to scream at them instead of feeling the other feelings threatening to bubble out and spill over. Instead, he straightened, regained some semblance of control and turned towards the door. He wasn't going to be baited into her fight. She almost got him. "The funeral arrangements are being made. You're expected to be there for part of them. You're just as much her family as I am." As Bruce left, almost walking into a returning from day shift Crystal as they crossed paths down the drive, the Brucey Charm turned on as he apologised, Crystal walked into see Stephanie, still in place, beginning to tremble. "So you wanna tell me why Bruce Wayne was in my ho–Stephie, what's wrong?!" Dumping her bag on the ground, putting her hands on Steph's shoulders and turning her to face her, Stephanie broke down entirely, encompassing her mother in a squeezing hug, sobbing into her shoulder. "My other mother is dead." Crystal, who had never been the biggest fan of Leslie, was unsure how to react. Gently rubbing Stephanie's back, she stayed quiet. After crying herself through her mother's lab coat and scrubs, she pulled back, sniffling. "Sorry… I'm–I gotta go. I got work to do." With that, turning and wiping her face on the bottom of her shirt, she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom, to suit up for the hunt. "I'm almost fifty percent sure nothing could go wrong."Stephanie Brownwww.roleplayer.me/DorkKnighttemplate credit.

People PLeasermentions: Ares, Aphrodite, Eros" It's what us gods are supposed to do. " Himeros was one of nine children to Ares and Aphrodite. He was the second youngest to all eight siblings, but for some reason, Ares looked to Himeros to be the best of them all. Himeros was the God of Sexual Desire and Ares always looked to him to make sure he did was he was supposed, to making sure that he was proud to be the God of Desire, proud to be Ares' son. Being that Eros, his twin brother was ignored by their father, Himeros felt like it was up to him to make sure that his father could rely on him. All the while Himeros was trying to please his father and please everyone around him, he was the one left behind. His other siblings always kept to themselves though, the only one he was really close to was his twin brother, Eros. The two seemed to rely on each other, especially since Eros wasn't getting the attention of their father. Being that Himeros tried so hard to make his father happy, he was starting to realize that he wasn't exactly happy himself. He was feeling so much pressure that it was stressing him out. He would go around, striking his arrow on people to bring them happiness, desire and joy, yet he was always left feeling unhappy, always left being the one that had no one. Sure he had Eros, but he was married, he had his wife Psyche and most of his siblings had partners too, but Himeros was left single, always trying to please everyone around him. And he did it not just because he had to, but because he didn't want to let anyone down.His mother always coddled him, held him close and protected him because her twin boys were her babies, Eros and Himeros were mama's angels and she knew how hard Ares was on the both of them. She didn't like that her husband was so hard on him and from the way Himeros was feeling, depressed and anxiety running high, she could tell that it was taking a toll on the winged God of hers. "You're being too hard on him. You don't put this pressure on the rest of our children," Aphrodite snapped at him, Ares glaring over at Himeros, looking back to his wife. "He can take it. He's tougher than the rest of them. And he needs some tough love. He's supposed to do his job, not worry about what he wants. It's what us GODS are supposed to do," Ares stated, giving looks back and forth from Aphrodite, to Himeros. As if he didn't feel pressure enough as it was, now he felt like he didn't have a choice. What if he didn't want this job anymore? Why couldn't he be happy? The pressure of his father on his shoulders was more than Himeros could bare. He wanted to be happy too, so why couldn't he? Why was it all up to him to do his job, when the rest of his siblings could enjoy what life they had and were having? template credit.